I write to you, little Baby B, but it seems more and more I write to you in my journal, and not here...
Is it because holding a pen feels more intimate than typing in between emails? You've been kicking so much, lately--I'm so aware of your presence that we have lots of audible conversations. Lucky that dad doesn't think (or expresses aloud) how crazy this might be, but I have no doubt that I am not alone in this, pregnancy-wise. How could anyone NOT talk back? (Kick) "yeah, mom--that was a good sandwich! (Kick) "Where's my drink? I'm thirsty!" How I interpret your kicks is not unlike a magic 8-ball. It depends on my mood.
The weather has warmed up quite a bit, and you really enjoyed our time outdoors yesterday! Mama's back is just killing her, but we managed some time in the lawn chair, sunbathing in that 70-degree weather, didn't we?
Soon, you can see all this for yourself, as well as the little ladybugs we've been hosteling in a jar with apple peels. They are a bit too eager for spring, but when you arrive, we'll release them together. How does that sound?
